


Cops and Robbers

by wtfmulder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Smut, also i use fox and dana here, and sexism, i'm sorry about that i know how much everyone hates it, scully is in a uniform, this is primarily just an excuse to write about msr but way hornier than canon and it's in the 70s, warning for pretty corrupt government
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24378259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtfmulder/pseuds/wtfmulder
Summary: Dana is a beat cop, trying to keep her head straight while dealing with her awful superiors. Fox steals things from people who don’t deserve them. This is just an excuse to write about very graphic sex in a police car. AU in the 1970s.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 22
Kudos: 118





	1. Cops and Robbers: Part 1

“You know, Dana, I used to hate how constricting these new uniforms were before I got a glimpse of your tight ass in them.”

Dana sat in the passenger seat of the car, hands folded in her lap, and kept her eye on the street corner they were patrolling. It never did her any good, telling Benson to shove it. He would tell the rest of the squad what she’d said, and then there’d be a whole parade: _oh, it’s that old Irish fire! The price you pay for red muff. What spunk she has. I’d like to show her spunk._

And then ‘Cap — call me ‘Cap, Dana, what’s with all this Captain nonsense, that’s so formal, we’re all buddies here, oh shit, honey, look at all these files I dropped, could you just, yeah, thank you, that’s real nice — ‘Cap would take it seriously, to his credit, cowering in fear under threat of Title IIV retaliation. Dana, would you be more comfortable if we put you at the front this week with Pamela? You want desk duty so you can be away from all them boys? Give it a week and they’ll simmer. 

So all she could do was her job. Then she could go home. 

Her father had wanted her to be a nurse. She hated the idea of being ordered this way and that way, cleaning up urine in a short-skirted dress, wearing a little white cap and getting pinched at by demented geriatrics. It had taken her months to muster up the courage to say the word _Doctor_ in front of indomitable Captain William Scully, and he’d refused to even look at her for a week after. 

That was when she got to thinking about justice. 

Joining the force was a bit of a rash decision, an act of rebellion in its own way. She could admit she’d been swayed by images of other women on T.V. _You’re under arrest, Sugar!_ Pepper Anderson in all her different disguises, conning the cons and whipping out her mock Ruger Service 6. She’d try to style her hair like Diana Rig in high school. Melissa even tried to fashion something like a catsuit for her, in the classic style of Emma Peel, but it hung off of her like a potato sack and their mother had beat them both silly when she discovered their plans.

Well, real life on the force was nothing like she’d planned. She worked twice as hard as any other cop in the bullpen and she was treated twice as bad. Still, she was lucky she even got to sit in the car at all instead of being relegated to paperwork. They pulled that on her every so often, dropping files on her desk with cases she hadn’t even worked on, making all kinds of excuses. Oh, my wife, you see she’s just… we’ve just been working so hard out there, catching criminals, we just haven’t time to… fuck them. Fuck them all in their fucking hairy lazy small-dicked asses.

She sat there in the monaco, stewing in her rage, when Benson suddenly shouted, “Hey! Hey, that’s Fox! That’s Fox Mulder! He’s booking it! He’s down past the stop sign!” 

_Fox Mulder!_

She knew too much about the little miscreant. He’d been pissing off the squad for years now, always committing small, petty crimes and somehow wiggling his way out of punishment. Pick-pocketing was his thing, and they’d had over a dozen distraught citizens burst into the station crying about wrist watches and wallets and even a woman’s mink stole. Then there were his other vexing crimes, as absurd as they were minor: painting obscene images on campaign yard signs, upending the entirety of a vintage Pinot Grigio on the wrinkled, weak-lunged mayor, and throwing pool parties at his father’s estate with assorted vagrants and prostitutes. 

He was a weird one. And an unlucky one, too, because it was the wrong day to fuck with Dana Scully. 

She leapt out of the car while Benson followed behind her. “Stop!” She yelled out. “You’re under arrest!” 

Dana honestly didn’t know why she’d thought that would work. The lanky brown haired man got one look at her, threw her a much too handsome smirk, and took off as fast as a race horse. 

No. No. Absolutely not. Screw this guy. She followed after him, ignoring Benson’s cries and gasping breaths as she left him in her dust. He was way out of shape and should have been retired. She didn’t care if he was her partner, this motherfucker was hers.

Pure adrenaline caught her up quickly, and as she turned the corner she saw him flip over a garbage can, laughing maniacally, speeding up and slowing her down. She just barely managed to leap over it and keep up her pace as she continued to chase him down the sidewalk. 

Perhaps Fox Mulder wasn’t as sly as the rumors made him out to be, because all of the sudden he took a sharp turn into the alleyway behind the old abandoned tax collector’s office. She knew it was a deadend. She whipped after him, reaching down to pull her gun from his holster, and backed him up against the brick. “Hands up where I can see them!” She yelled. 

He was oddly calm, even held at gunpoint. He had sharp hazel eyes and a natural coif to his hair that made him look like an oldtimey scoundrel. Her eyes roamed down his body — dear God, his white t-shirt had two naked cowboys on it. Obscene. Completely obscene. But his body was lean and damp with sweat, his thighs thick under his jeans. She was thrown off by this for only a second, but even then he kept his hands up, eyeing her the same way she was eyeing him. 

Then their eyes met. 

A storm whirled inside of her, a perilous mix of heat and electricity that set her ablaze from the inside out. For a moment she couldn’t breathe. His chest wasn’t moving, either. It was like time had stopped and their world did not exist; they were only a portrait, a depiction of lust at its most primal, and maybe a little confusion. Only at how strong it was. Only at how desperate.

It was broken when Benson rounded the corner. They heard him yelling and snapped out of their trance. 

Fox moved quickly and she was certain he was about to run. But all he did was turn around, press his chest against the wall, and hold his wrists behind his back. 

Waiting to be cuffed. 

All of her actions were done by autopilot. She slapped the cuffs around his wrist and guided him out of the alley where her partner was stumbling up to. Benson’s eyes bulged out of his head when he saw them. “Holy shit! You caught him!” 

On the drive back to the station, Benson took all the credit for the catch as he spoke to the Captain on the radio, and Fox stared at her from the backseat like he was going to yank her back there with him and fuck her stupid. But when he heard Benson declare, “You got that right, I caught Fox Mulder!”, Fox’s mouth set into a grim, thin line, and he spent the rest of the ride staring at Benson.

Dana tried to argue with the Captain when they got back to the precinct, exclaiming _I’m the one who chased him down! I’m the one who cuffed him!,_ but Benson and another officer took him back instead for questioning. She knew she’d pushed too far when Captain sharply growled, “Now you cut it out before I put you in your place, Officer Scully.” 

So she found her desk and moodily began her paperwork, so angry and distraught she only fleetingly considered the connection she’d made with the petty thief. But then Benson and Reynolds stepped out of the interrogation room, looking at Dana with sour faces. 

“He says he won’t talk to anybody but you,” Benson grumbled. 

Captain sent three more people back there before he gave up and gave her the go ahead, warning that he’d be watching her from outside. Even with the threat — she knew he’d be watching for mistakes, no matter how small, he was always looking for ways to justify the way they treated her — she was filled with excitement. This would be her first interrogation with a suspect. She could barely contain her joy as she neared the room, but quickly masked her face when she opened the door. 

Fox awaited her, sitting back with his feet on the table and a hot cup of coffee in his hand. He may have been a criminal, but he was still the commissioner’s son, and that was part of the problem. No matter what he did, he’d always get away with it because of good old nepotism. It was still important to continue pursuing him as the precinct’s strategy was to simply tire him out. Put him through so much red tape he’d have to give up and live a decent life, or at least run away to be a nuisance somewhere else. 

She sat down across from him, folding her hands in her lap. She stared him down, sharp as steel. He simply offered a pleasant, friendly smile. 

“Officer Scully,” he greeted, removing his legs from the table. He sat up and scooted his chair in, setting his coffee down at his side. “Pleasure to see you again. You run very fast on such short little legs.” 

She wanted to kick him, but she held back as police brutality was not a route she wanted to go down. She faintly worried she was blushing, but the high speed chase exertion and the greenish tint of the light would mask her coloring. 

“Fox William Mulder.” She threw her file down on the table in front of her. “Age twenty-six years old. Son of William and Teena Mulder. Your father is the city commissioner.” 

This was all perfunctory and he knew it, having been through it enough times. She continued. “This is the fourth time you’ve been dragged in here. The first time you were here…” she flipped through her file. “You stole wallets from two elderly women having a picnic at the park.” 

“Their husbands are Nixon apologists,” he supplied, like that was a total defense of his actions. She raised an eyebrow and continued.

“The next time you stole, you pickpocketed a senator’s watch.” 

At the mention of this, his face went blank. Dana knew a little bit about this senator and the scandalous age range of the company he kept. She flipped to the next example. “You lifted Mrs. Paula Dowell’s mink stole at a charity ball honoring recycling and conservation efforts of local authorities.” 

He leaned toward her, slightly enraged. He was a wild thing. She liked it, despite herself, liked how unpredictable he was with his body language and his moods. “Recycling and conservation! Her husband’s factory spits enough smoke in the air to cover the whole town!” 

“And now it’s a fifteen year old’s bicycle.” Defend that, Fox. 

He didn’t. He had the guts to look a little sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling with a glimmer of shame. “It was an emergency. I’ll return it.” 

That settled it, then. It wasn’t like they were going to charge him with anything. But she was so curious about him, and if she were honest, she wanted him to keep looking at her like that. When he wasn’t reacting to his accusations, he looked enraptured by her presence, answering every question with unheard of honesty. 

“What confuses me is _why_ you do this,” Dana said. “It can’t be about the money. You have plenty of it. You’ve never been without a day in your life.” 

He studied her, then shrugged. “I’m just a bored, privileged little reprobate.” 

“I don’t think that’s it.” She shook her head. “You select your victims very carefully. You have a motive, Fox Mulder, but what is it?” 

There it was again. That look that let her know she was naked in his mind, spread out, all his. She’d never thought this way about a man in her life. It was a miracle she was holding herself up the way she was. She knew she was more competent than any man on the force, and that she had gotten more information out of him than any of the other cops who’d taken him back into this room. 

“Do you really want to know… Officer Scully?” He leaned in close, and for a moment she thought he was going to shove the table out of the way and tackle her.

“Sit up,” she warned him, aroused to the point of insanity. Her clitoris throbbed against the tight seam of her uniform pants. She wanted to rock into it, let it press into her as she watched his plump mouth move and listened to that warm, smooth voice. “And tell me the truth.” 

“As a kid, Officer Scully, did you ever hear the tale of Robin Hood?” he said. “I really enjoyed it. It was my favorite bedtime story.” 

And that’s as far as she got with him. Captain interrupted and pulled her out, seeing that she’d pulled something out of the thief, and he then replaced her with Benson and Reynolds. It made no sense at all because all Fox did was shut down again, and they ended up having to release him. 

“Dana,” Captain barked. “You’re escorting him back to the commissioner's.” At least they trusted her to drive. 

She put him in the back simply because she was worried what they might do if she put him in the front next to her. He spoke in long, furious sentences, raging on her behalf. 

“You almost had me! I almost spilled it all, and they _replaced you_ even after all of your hard work? What kind of sexist pigshit is that?” 

“Watch your language, Mr. Mulder,” Scully said. But it thrilled her to hear that someone understood her pain. That someone saw the way she was treated and also decided it was unjust. Every day she lived knowing she had no one on her side. Melissa was on the other side of the world, drifting around in her constant dream. Melissa was the only one who’d ever believed in her. 

Some terrifying emotion bloomed in her chest while listening to Fox speak, and she wanted it to go away because she knew it was doomed and extremely inappropriate. But he made her feel better, he even made her laugh, and it was nice to have a conversation with someone who didn’t take her intelligence as an insult. 

All too soon she was pulling up next to the commissioner’s estate. It was so late at night. There was no one at the gate, and the driveway leading into the house was long and winding. The car was completely obscured from the view of anyone inside the gate. 

They sat in silence for a moment. Before she could tell him to get out and go home, he leaned forward and rasped into her ear, “Keep driving. A little past the trees.” 

She swallowed. She held back her tongue from making her do the right thing. She didn’t say “Get the hell out of my car and stop stealing things from people.” 

She drove. 

After a five minute excursion, she parked in between a small patch of trees, and unless someone was very, very lost, no one would be able to spot the cop car. In the dark, they both waited, breathing together in that tight, hot space, and when Fox said, “ _Get back here,_ ” Dana removed her belt, shoved the door open and raced to join him in the backseat. 

He yanked her on top of him as soon as she slammed the door shut and kissed her like he meant to crawl inside of her. It was madness. His hands were everywhere, all the places she’d imagined them since she first laid eyes on him in that dirty alleyway, and despite how cramped they were in the backseat he managed to unzip her trousers and rub her through her soaked panties. He growled when he felt how wet she was. “What a dirty. Fucking. Girl.” As if she couldn’t want him any more. 

She pushed herself into the corner by the door to help him remove her boots, slacks and underwear, she unbuttoned her crisp blue shirt. He watched her, panting, crazy. That’s what everyone said about Fox Mulder. He was fucking crazy. She liked it. She really really liked it. She unbuttoned her shirt but didn’t remove it entirely, the badge sparkling in the pale light of the moon, and that seemed to drive him wild. He advanced on her again to suck at her nipples through her bra and pull at her hair with his big, strong hands. Her noises were so embarrassing, so pitchy and feminine and loud, but he never called her out or made her feel wrong for them.

Very soon it was too much. She wanted more. Before he could get his hand between her legs, she pushed him back and stared him down. “Move back. Unzip your pants.” 

Immediately he complied. Just his pants. They didn’t bother with his t-shirt, though she was still rather disturbed by it and would’ve liked to see his body, but time was of the essence and she wanted him inside of her _now_. Moving into his lap, she waited while he adjusted himself and worked his cock out of his underwear, and then he was fucking her, hands on her hips to help her ride him hard there in the backseat. 

Her wildfire hair was falling out of her ponytail and he reached behind her to untie it. It framed her face in frizzy, loose waves, and it touched the middle of her spine as she leaned back in possessed ecstasy. She rarely broke the rules but when she did, she went all out, like becoming a police officer or chasing a suspect on her own. Then fucking that suspect in her service vehicle. It felt. So. Good. Fox was so attentive to her needs, so focused on her pleasure, and she’d never felt a single thing like it — not at all like that illicit fumbling with inexperienced, selfish boys back at the base, not at all like her ex-boyfriend Ethan, who never had time for sex in the first place — and he knew where her clit was. Oh, glory be to all in heaven, he knew where her clit was. 

He rubbed her furiously, licking and biting at her tits as they bobbed up and down in front of his mouth, and she squeezed down around his cock pounding inside of her. Almost drowned out by her own noises, Fox moaned and growled and babbled beneath her, filthy praises and encouragements that brought her closer and closer to the edge, eventually tossing her right over it.

She slammed her hand against the window when she came, crying out his name like a prayer to the heavens. She could hardly breathe through the humidity their bodies had created, through the pleasure that incinerated every neuron. It wasn’t long before he was holding her down for his own release, rocking his hips and sucking on her neck as he filled her. 

The come down took awhile. Her heart raced as he clutched her to his body. His fluids were slipping out of her, making a mess of his clothing. She would have to go take the car to be cleaned. They were probably going to force that little chore on her, anyway. Later, at home, she would freak out about the series of bad choices she had made, but here in his arms she was exhilarated and deliriously happy. This petty criminal. Who stole bicycles from children. 

After a few minutes, a few days, a few years, Fox pulled back and held her face in both of his hands. “Next time I get caught, I hope it’s you,” he said, kissing her sweetly. Pulling back, he breathed, “Also, call me Mulder.”

“Why would I call you Mulder?”

“Because Fox is a stupid ass name,” he said. She moved out of his lap so he could hastily button himself up and clean up as best as he could. “My father is an out of touch, power-hungry monster and thought that Fox sounded perfectly distinguished.” 

“I think it fits. You steal people. You run away from the police,” she pointed out.

“But not from you.” He kissed her again and then he was climbing out of the car. “See you soon, Officer Scully.” And he left her there to figure out what the hell she was going to do.


	2. Cops and Robbers: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did decide to add a little more. Right now the plan is to kind of serialize this and it’ll be more like... episodes or separate little stories instead of a long fic with a real arc. After this part anything else posted will be self-contained standalones. This is just a fun little project that I might update every once in awhile. Sorry about... how little smut there is in this part, character motivations got in the way.

Life went back to normal for Dana. She sunk right back into the misery she’d been accustomed to in her day-to-day existence. She did think of her encounter with eccentric, self-acclaimed Robin Hood — often: in day dreams, in her bed, in the shower, on the phone with her parents, in the grocery store — but swore to herself it was a one-time thing. A wonderful, huge mistake. Next time, she’d have no problem letting Benson take care of that one. 

But a couple weeks after meeting Mulder (and how odd was it to call him that? like they were partners of some sort, partners in crime), life had taken a sharp turn for her real partner. 

“She’s gonna take the kids!” Benson cried out the moment he charged into the bullpen. “She’s gonna take me for every fuckin’ thing I got!” 

There was a flurry of rage on his behalf from the rest of the precinct as they nibbled on their breakfast and ignored the work piling up on their desks. Who did that good for nothing whore think she was? How was she gonna take care of the kids if she’d never lifted a finger to work a day in her life? You know what I would do to her — yeah and that’s exactly what I did, what a mouth on that bitch.

Dana worked silently on some of her reports and picked up the phone whenever it rang. It was no secret that what Officer Benson lacked as a husband he made up for in his skills as a philanderer. He’d fuck anybody who’d let him, and no woman ever let him without some hefty form of payment. Dana felt so sorry for those girls. There just wasn’t enough money in the world to make that a fair trade. 

“Someone’s stalkin’ me,” Benson moaned into his hands. “She has _pictures_.” 

That made sense to her. The man was utterly unlikable. He was bound to have enemies somewhere. She figured even a gas station attendant might have cause to enact revenge on him.

He was even worse in the car when they headed out for their patrol duties. This time they were cruising through neighborhoods. There’d been increasing reports of minor vandalism — egging, spraypainted cars, destroyed lawns. The part of town they were assigned to today was one of the nicer parts. If you lived in one of these houses, you had big money. Most owners had their own companies or worked in the government. 

It was a sunny day in the neighborhood. Children were running around outside playing ringolevio and kick the can. Dana waved to some of them as Benson drove past and grumbled about _fucking kids playing in the streets, we should run em over._

All of the sudden they got a call from dispatch.

“...we got a report on Maple Street, 157 Maple Street, that’s 1-5-7 Maple Street, female watching out of her window while a group of children vandalizes her mailbox…”

That was their beat. Benson sighed, turned the car around, and off they went. 

157 Maple Street was the address of Mr. Henry Lincoln, lawyer to most drunken, imbecilic good boys in their small town. He was well known and well loved by their precinct. When they pulled up to the house, he played their muted siren and all the kids began to freak out. 

“Go, go!” Yelled Fox William Mulder, taking a baseball bat from a cackling teenage boy. “Scatter!” 

Dana jumped out of the car and Benson sullenly followed. She caught up with one wiggly child with big brown eyes and a sticky red candy coating all over his mouth. “What do you think you’re doing?” She scolded. She leant down, pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket, and wiped his face off. He wiggled and wiggled. “Does your mom know you’re out here?” She ignored Mulder staring her down a few yards away. 

“My mom’s dead,” the kid yelled, pushing himself out of her arms.

Dana paused, looking into his young, chubby face. He couldn’t have been more than eleven years old. 

“Well, she wouldn’t want you getting into this kind of trouble. Go home,” she said, ruffling his hair a little. When she stood back up, Benson was shoving Mulder in the backseat. She refused to blush. 

“So rough, Officer!” Mulder laughed. Dana agreed. The handcuffs were a little much, seeing that Mulder had practically waited for them to take him away. He’d even handed over the baseball bat without complaint. “Good to see you again, my man.” When Dana got into her seat and buckled her seat belt, Mulder said, much kinder, “Officer Scully.”

Damn it, he looked so good. The forest green sweater he wore hugged his arms and chest perfectly, and in the rearview mirror she could see that sly little grin as he watched her. Her heart fluttered in her chest. 

Mulder made snide comments on the ride to the station, taunting her partner mercilessly while she sat there in silence. She didn’t trust herself to say anything; she was afraid of revealing herself. But one comment in particular gathered her interest. “Benson, tell me. How’s the wife? How are the kids?” Mulder leaned in to speak close to his ear. It sounded innocuous, and Benson seemed to take it that way, although Dana saw him stiffen. He held it in until Mulder added, “What? You don’t understand me? I’ll translate it for you then. _Oink_.” 

The pissed off cop slammed his fists on the steering wheel, his face red as a tomato. “Fox Mulder, you’re going to rot in that fucking cell. I don’t give a shit who your dad is. You’re just a prissy, spoiled little nancy boy,” he boomed. “They shoulda done to you what they did to your sister.” 

“Benson,” Dana snapped, alarmed at his loss of control. The vehicle swerved and her hand flew to the dashboard. “Benson, what the hell are you doing?” And in the backseat, Mulder’s quiet, blank face unnerved her even more. 

“Dana, shut the fuck up,” her partner growled. A storm of her own anger brewed inside of her, but she remained silent for the rest of the ride. 

Of course, Officer Benson hadn’t known what he was talking about. Fox Mulder got off with yet another slap on the wrist and a fine for contributing to the delinquency of minors. His father would pay for the mailbox. Dana, yet again, was tasked with driving him back home. This time, their drive was silent. The banter, the heat, the thrill. All of it was gone. 

But when she pulled up to the gate, he told her, once again, “Keep driving.” 

She supposed it was their spot now, seeing as they’d been there twice. No. No, they didn’t have a spot. They didn’t have anything. Now was the time to tell him that. 

“Let me in the front,” Mulder said. She unlocked the door and he got in the passenger seat. She felt him watching her, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye. Couldn’t. “Shit, Scully, I want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you all day.” 

It caught her off guard. “Officer Scully,” she reminded him, because she couldn’t bring herself to reject him.

“ _Officer_ Scully,” he corrected, low and flirty. But then he sat up straight and shook his head. “That’s not why I needed to meet with you. Well, if I am being honest, I was thinking about it a little bit. A lot. _A lot_ a lot. But I have… a proposition for you.” 

Hadn’t they propositioned each other enough? Also, what did he mean, _needed to meet with her_? Did he get himself arrested on purpose to gather her attention? Oh god, what had she gotten herself into? 

“Mr. Mulder,” she said, trying to get her breathing under control. She closed her eyes and dived straight into it. “Our interactions thus far have been completely inappropriate. I should never have convened with you in the manner I did. It was an abuse of authority. I cannot, in good conscience, continue to meet with you under these circumstances. It would cost me my job, and I actually care about this work very much. This is the last time we’ll be communicating.” There. Now she could breathe easy. This was the right thing to do.

But Mulder wasn’t having it. “Scully,” he stopped her seriously. “That kid you spoke to today? Remember him?” 

So this was what they meant when they called him crazy. She couldn’t keep track of where his mind was going. With much exasperation, she answered, “Yes. What about him?”

“His mother died in a car accident. She was hit by a drunk driver. Colin Anderson.” He let that sit for a moment. Colin Anderson owned the only car dealership in town. His net worth was the thing of legends. 

“Oh,” she breathed. It was beginning to click.

“Got off. Scott free. Didn’t sit in a cell, didn’t get fined. Absolutely nothing happened to him. He had the best lawyer money could buy.” Mulder grew impassioned, twisting in his seat to plead with her. “Don’t you see it, Scully? It’s this town. The _whole town_ is rotten. The stench is unbearable. It’s everywhere we breathe. It’s filled my lungs and now I’m _sick_ with it.” 

This was what she’d been getting to the bottom of in that interrogation. Mulder most certainly did have a motive. He wasn’t wreaking havoc for the thrill of it; he wasn’t an overindulged manchild. He was angry. It was the same anger she felt every day. It was what inspired her to become a cop in the first place, but that dream had been crushed under the jackboot of reality. 

But what could she do about it? What could anyone do about it, really? 

“I do see it, Mulder.” Unknowingly, she was dropping formalities, too. “But there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m sorry.” 

He smacked the door, startling her to look at him. He was seething at her and for her. “Bull _shit,_ Scully. You’re the only female cop in that fucking precinct. You didn’t join the force for the fun of it. Is it fun? Has this been fun for you?” She swallowed and shook her head. “No. You did it because you wanted to make a difference.”

Now she was angry. He knew nothing about her life or her intentions. Well, he was definitely on the mark, but his audacity was shocking. He had a way of getting comfortable way too quickly. They didn’t know each other at all. It was time to drop him off and get the hell out of here. “You are _way_ off base. I think it’s time you—”

“You can _make a difference_ , Scully, we can _get those bastards_. I see it in you. I saw it in you when you pointed your gun at me. I saw it in you when you actually asked me questions after I stole that bike. Stole a _bike_. Who gives a shit about a stolen bike? When I get picked up and hauled over there, they put me in that backroom, hand me a cup of coffee, and talk shit about my father where they think I can’t hear them. Then they tell me I can go. Because they won’t do anything about it. They don’t want to deal with my dad.” 

He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand how powerless she was. He didn’t know what it was like to go into that fucking precinct every day and have sixty year old men whistle about what a tragedy it was that the uniform shirts were so boxy. Sweet Dana Scully, you’re the real criminal for hiding that body away. He didn’t understand how she regretted her decision to become a police officer every single day, because at least as a nurse people wouldn’t make fun of her. 

She didn’t know she was crying until his hand touched her face and turned it toward him. Then she started crying harder. He leaned into her over the center console and brought her face to his chest, rubbing her back. Mulder just… smelled so good, and his arms felt so good around her. His chest was big, strong, and he held her so gently. Nothing about the way he made her feel made a lick of sense. He was ravenous for her in one moment, yelling at her the next, and now he was so soft with her it was like she was floating away in a dream.

He pulled away, stroking her hair. “All this stupid, petty crap that I’ve been doing hasn’t been working. I knew it wouldn’t. I just didn’t know what else to do. I was just acting out my rage.” His thumbs wiped away her tears. “But it’s gotten me… certain connections. I know people who know things, Scully. I can get evidence. Real, hard evidence that they can’t deny.” 

“They won’t listen to me, Mulder. They don’t want to hear anything from me.” She pulled away and sniffed. She wanted to help, she understood his pain. But there was no denying that her voice meant nothing, not in this town.

“Then don’t use your voice. Let the evidence speak for itself. And if they won’t listen… we can pursue other ways of justice.” 

She stared at him. “I don’t approve of recruiting a coterie of disadvantaged children to commit vandalism in affluent neighborhoods. That’s just stupid, Mulder. If I see you do that again I’m going to arrest you.” 

His laugh was too loud in the car and he pulled her in for another tight hug. “You’re right. We can find other means. Scully… join me. _Help_ me.” 

Not knowing how the hell she would be of any assistance, she nodded against his chest anyway. He squeezed her hard and kissed her forehead. They rested like that for long minutes, just holding each other. 

“Did Benson like my photos?” He murmured into her hair. 

She pulled away sharply. “ _You_ stalked him? Mulder! You ruined his marriage!” 

“He ruined his own marriage,” Mulder scoffed. Then he shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smug grin. “And I didn’t stalk him. Like I said, Scully. I have connections. And I didn’t like the way he was treating you. It was wrong.”

Despite herself, she was aroused at the idea of this man going to such a great length to avenge her… in his own twisted way. Her nipples were painfully hard in her bra. She licked her lips and squeezed her thighs together, and he knew exactly what she wanted when he saw the flutter in her eyelashes. 

“You gonna cuff me if I kiss you, Officer?” He husked, placing a warm hand over her knee. He rubbed her leg up to the thigh and leaned in close, all too eager to risk arrest. 

All the time she’d spent promising herself this wouldn’t happen again, erased by those fragile moments. Her hands became her enemy when they started working at her duty rig. She carefully placed her belt on the dashboard and let him work at the fly of her pants, and then his fingers were slipping inside, and his tongue was on her neck, and the windows were steaming up as he fingered her slowly and licked into her mouth. It was like they couldn’t even look at each other without escalating it to this point. She hoped it would never stop.


	3. The Drug Bust: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scully is suspended pending investigation for drugs that go missing after she’d stored them away as evidence. Now it’s up to her and Mulder to figure out who's framing her and why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will have two parts! Shout out and many thanks to @sarie-fairy who prompted this and gave me the inspiration to write it.

It was a bad, bad day for Officer Scully. 

The day before had gone just fine, just fine. The whole precinct came alive with a rapturous joy Dana had never seen before. Even Eddie Hoffman, the oldest cop in the goddamn state, had removed his hat, climbed on his desk with those knobby little knees, and started grooving to the loud rock music booming from the Captain’s tape player. She prayed to God she’d never have to see a sight like that again. There was free coffee for everyone and this time they even had the good milk. If you were buddy-buddy with the records clerk, maybe you even got a little something extra to really bring the party out of you.

It was the biggest drug bust their inept precinct had ever operated. Ten bricks of high quality fishscale seized straight from the dealer’s candy red datsun. Robbie Reno was his name. He had the whole state after him and the fascinated minds of an entire nation tuning in to his exploits. Now he was going down. He was done for. Dunzo. Good night. The confiscated drugs were placed on a back table near the evidence room, stacked high like twin trophies. Every once in awhile a cop would pass by the table, slap the bag on top of the pile and call out, “Fucking Reno! We fucking got him!” The whole squad was elated. Nothing like this had ever happened before. 

Dana kept up with it as much as she could. She politely declined the whiskey Marty tried to pour into her coffee and shimmied a little to a KISS song her friend Monica liked to play all the time. That hadn’t ended very well for her. Marty was well and proper crocked and decided this was the perfect time to get his hands on little Dana Scully. 

“Oh, Marty, sit on it,” she snapped, snatching his hands from her waist and stomping off. He laughed after her, waving his cup in the air and nearly sloshing spiked coffee all over his typewriter. 

“One day you’ll want it, doll!” He shouted. The rest of the precinct toasted to that. 

Near the end of the day it got to where Dana was the only one capable of standing still on two legs. Captain noticed and called her to his office, stumbling back to his desk with a loud grunt. 

“Officer Scully,” he slurred. “You’re to bag and tag that evidence and get it all sorted, alright? Get it in the closet for the state to pick up in the morning.” 

She complied, documenting every move as she made it. That was just how she operated. It had never once occurred to her that she would be under suspicion for any type of misconduct. 

The next day, all eyes were on her. 

She was called back by the Captain yet again, and this time he was stone-cold sober and dead serious. He asked her to close the door before she sat down. Every face out in the bullpen watched her without shame. 

“Three out of the ten bags we pulled from yesterday’s bust went missing last night,” Captain said. “You were the last one to be seen with them.” 

The accusation smacked her like a sack full of bricks. She couldn’t breathe. Her bladder constricted and her nails sliced into the leather arms of her chair. 

“Now we’re gonna take you back for questioning. No one’s saying you’re guilty just yet, but it doesn’t look good, Officer.” Captain’s face told her what he thought about her innocence. 

They did take her back. After a couple hours of circular questioning — Now why’d you do it, Dana? That just ain’t like you. You decide cop work just ain’t for you? Stress got to ya? Keepin up with the men is just too much for you to handle? — she was asked to turn in her badge and gun. Two weeks suspension, pending investigation. 

It all happened so quickly. That morning she’d woken up almost happy to report for duty. Only a week had gone by since her last meeting with Mulder, and now each day she walked around with purpose. Nothing had happened yet, and she wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted her to be doing, but she was content to wait as long as she knew they were working up to something important. 

Now she wouldn’t be any help to him at all. 

She arrived home at about one o’clock in the afternoon and tried not to mope herself to sleep. There was some cleaning that needed to be done; her roommate, Ellen, was something of an interior designer, and she often struggled with cleaning up after herself when she got to upholstering things. She was too busy cleaning up after her boyfriend at his place. Dana sighed and got to work, knowing that arguing about it wasn’t going to get her anywhere. 

She tried to do what she thought was light reading about cute little rabbits, but so many of them were dying in the book that she just had to put it down. Now she was even more despondent. All she could bring herself to do was throw herself on the couch and watch T.V. She sat there and flipped through channels for almost thirty minutes before putting on The Mary Tyler Moore show. God, when did the show become so political? The episode was about equal pay for women. She turned it off and started to cry.

Fuck, she would have to call her mom and tell her what happened. She would have to tell her _dad_. And she knew they wouldn’t automatically give her the benefit of the doubt; they’d been increasingly suspicious of her actions after she ran off to the academy, because _that’s not the Dana we raised._

Chainsmoking cigarettes and eating large helpings of vanilla ice cream, then. That’s how she would make herself feel better. She ate straight out of the half-gallon bucket and listened as Roberta Flack crooned sad songs from the record player. On a legal pad she scribbled out potential scripts she could use to explain everything to her parents. 

She was half submerged in a bottle of red when Ellen got home and rushed to her side at the sight. “Oh, Dana, honey. What are you doing? What happened?”

“I got _suspended,_ ” she sobbed, falling into Ellen’s embrace as the tears began to flood. 

Her roommate froze in shock and pulled back to look at her. “Suspended? _You_? What the hell for?” 

Dana cried and cried and explained the situation as best as she could through the sobbing. The whole while Ellen raged for her, cursing out every officer whose name she knew until she ran out of names. Then she simply cradled Dana and rocked her back and forth.

“What the fuck do they think you’re going to do with that much coke? You weigh about a hundred and fifteen pounds,” Ellen huffed. This finally got a laugh out of Dana. The redheaded cop pulled back, wiped her eyes and sniffed. 

“I don’t know _what_ they think. I only know that they think I did it. I was the one who bagged and tagged them. But someone else must’ve gone into that closet after I left,” she said. 

“Don’t you have any cameras?” 

“God no. That’d be too useful for that dump.” 

“You gonna be okay, honey?” Ellen stroked her hair. Dana nodded, closing her eyes. “Alright. Well, you know where I am.” Of course. Dana couldn’t compete with Tony Orlando, no matter how sad she was. 

The conversation with Ellen pepped her up a little. Calling her parents wouldn’t be all that bad. After taking a few deep breaths, she stubbed out her cigarette, splashed some water in her face from the kitchen sink, and marched her way to the phone. 

It began ringing before she could pick it up to dial. 

“Dana,” she spoke into the receiver. Maybe it was Captain calling to tell her to prepare for arrest. Maybe somehow her parents already knew. Maybe it was Father McCue. Oh hell, was it Father McCue? 

“Officer Scully,” greeted a warm voice on the other side. So warm it melted her. 

What a treat, to hear from him after the day she had. She hid her smile into her fist and leaned back against the wall. And it _was_ a lean, a lean and not a swoon. “Mulder, how did you get my number?” She asked. “I know I’m not listed in the phonebook.” 

“It was difficult. I had to kill at least four men, Scully,” he said solemnly. “None of them wanted to give it up. They couldn’t stand the competition.” 

“Oh, shut your mouth, Mulder.” But she laughed, thoroughly enjoying the praise. “What do you want?” 

“We didn’t talk about how we would keep in touch. We can’t really meet in public. Not in the daylight, at least.” 

“We can talk like this,” she said. But that wasn’t good enough. Mercifully, he agreed.

“I want to be able to see you. I thought about having you over here, but that would bring too much unwanted attention. You never know who my father will decide to have over. What about yours? What’s your situation like?” 

She leaned over to see Ellen in the living room, glued to the T.V. Ellen wouldn’t say anything to anybody. She might gossip to her boyfriend, but he lived over an hour away. “If you’re careful, it should be fine. You have to let me know when you’re coming over.” 

“Alright. I will.” He sounded happy. In a lower, concerned voice, “How are you, Dana?” 

Dana swallowed. She’d almost forgotten about her suspension. It was odd to hear him say her first name; it made her feel so vulnerable. “Actually, Mulder, I’ve been suspended.” 

Silence. Then a loud, sharp, “What?” 

Trying not to cry again, she told him the whole story. She went with the same script she’d written for her parents. He listened quietly and when she finished, he said, with an eerie resolve, “We’ll find the guy who did it.” 

“I don’t know how,” she whispered. “There are so many of them in that precinct and they were all drunk. It could have been anyone. Hell, it could’ve been the janitor.” 

“Think like a cop, Scully. Consider the motive. Why would someone want to take three pounds of cocaine?”

“That’s way too much for just one person,” she said to herself. Then it came to her like turning on a light switch. “They’re trying to sell it!” 

“You think they gave it back to a Reno associate?”

She thought it over. “No, they only took three bags. That’s too much risk for such a big time dealer. They’re thinking local. Mulder, that’s it. They’re selling local. Selling it to people in town.” 

“You think they’re selling it straight to the public?”

“No, no. Too risky. They’re selling to distributors.” She didn’t work with drug offenses and had no clue where to start looking for dealers. She told Mulder this. 

“I know exactly where to start. When we get off I’ll make some phone calls. That means we need to meet tomorrow, early in the morning. I’ll come pick you up. I’ll have some men with me.”

That made her uneasy. “Mulder…” 

“They’re good guys, I promise. Well, they could use a shower. But they’re very well connected in the seedy underbelly of our even seedier town, and they’re great at surveillance. They can help you, Scully. What time tomorrow? Does six a.m. work?” 

She supposed she didn’t have a choice. What else could she do? She was already in heaps of trouble. “Yes, that works for me.” 

“See, I told you we’d make a good team.” That pulled another smile out of her. “So, Officer Scully — “ oh Christ, she knew that voice. “What are you wearing?”

“Fox Mulder, I’m in the kitchen,” she hissed, clutching the phone to her ear like Ellen might be able to hear him from the couch. 

“Even better. How sturdy is your table?” He murmured. 

“I’m not doing this.” But when he let out a small moan, her whole body thrummed with need. It’d been a whole week since she’d seen him. It wasn’t like she had all that much sex before he came into her life, but now that he was here a single day felt like a century. Just a single passing thought of their last encounter had her wanting to grind against every available surface. 

“You’re not?” He gasped. “Because I am.” 

She knew he was. She could hear his fist working over his cock. She was jealous — oh how she wanted to touch him. The times they’d spent together were so rushed, and the car had been so dark that she didn’t know what he looked like. She didn’t know how he liked to be touched. 

What was Ellen doing? She checked. Still on the couch, still engrossed in her show. Okay. Okay, she could do this. Shit, was she really going to do this? “What are you doing?” Scully whispered. “Tell me.” With her free hand, she grazed her aching breasts over her shirt. 

“God, Scully, I’m thinking about the last time in your car. You were so — “ he broke off with a small curse, jerking himself roughly. 

“Keep going,” she panted. She tweaked her nipple and slipped her hand over her stomach. Her pussy ached for contact, but she held off. She wanted to hear him. This was so naughty with Ellen in the other room, but how could she stop herself? This man did things to her in ways that shouldn’t be legal. 

“You were so sexy, fuck, so responsive. You and your tight little pussy. You wanted it so bad you w-wouldn’t even let me. Mm.” He licked his lips. “Mm. Wouldn’t even let me fuck you with my fingers. You — you fucked them. Rode my hand so hard…” 

She was going straight to hell. Straight to fucking hell. With her hand in her panties and her head thrown back, God would take one look at her and pull the lever and send her flying through its fiery depths. “Mulder, I can’t — “ she so badly wanted to respond to him, but couldn’t tip off Ellen. She had to stay quiet. 

“Still haven’t gotten to see you, not in the light. Cute little nipples and — you’re a natural redhead, aren’t you? Cute little red bush. Wanna put my mouth on you.” Fucking hell he was filthy. Was this really the commissioner’s son? What did these boys learn in private school? “When you cuffed me that first time we met — “ he stopped. 

She whined softly, the barest hint of a whimper. “What? What about it?” 

“I wanted you to force me down on my knees. So you could make me…” he was losing it. He was so close. She could probably finish his sentence for him, but she wanted to hear him say it. The world was spinning and she was out of control, alternating between fucking herself with her fingers and swirling her thumb over her clit. Say it Mulder say it say it say it. “I wanted to eat you out. I want you to fucking handcuff me and force me to lick your pussy.” 

Dana bit down on her tongue, hard. The salt of her blood stung her taste buds as she came to the sound of his strangled groans so close to her ear. “Fuck,” she burst out, head slamming against the wall as her thighs clamped tight around her wrist. Her whole arm was cramping but she forced herself to ride it out. He was coming with her, her last name spilling out over and over again as he finished himself off. Scully Scully Scully Scully. Oh fuck, Scully. 

“Oh my god,” she wheezed, finally removing her hand from her pants. “Mulder, what the fuck are you doing to me?” 

“I’m an innocent man, copper.” A little more seriously, “Hey, they’re not tapping you by any chance, are they?” 

A burst of laughter tore through her scratchy throat. “ _Now_ you ask? No, I’m pretty sure they haven’t gone to that much trouble. Not yet, at least.” 

“We’re gonna get it all figured out, Scully,” he promised her. It was oddly sincere after all the nasty things he’d just said to her. “We’re gonna take that fucker down. Six a.m.?”

“Six a.m.,” she concurred. 

“Alright. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, then,” he said. “Goodnight, Scully.” 

She felt so much better. Truly. She cradled the phone closer to her mouth like she was whispering straight into his ear. “Goodnight, Mulder.” 

Calling her parents would have to wait until tomorrow.


End file.
